


Ask Me

by Kannika



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kannika/pseuds/Kannika
Summary: Five times Conner and M'gann kind of, accidentally proposed to each other, and one time they follow through.
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent/M'gann M'orzz
Kudos: 31





	Ask Me

**Author's Note:**

> Season three episode one was everything I have ever wanted the show to give my OTP. 
> 
> But I also like to imagine scenarios like these.

I.

Before Ma and Pa opened the door to meet M’gann, Conner had been a tiny bit nervous they wouldn’t love her; now, he was beginning to worry they loved her too much.

“Look!” Ma held up a sweater, the fifth one so far, this one a deep blue that nearly matched M’gann’s cape and boots with black chevron patterns along the sleeves. “I made this one over the summer for a neighbor’s daughter’s graduation, but she had too many blue clothes so I made another one instead and kept this one! And I think it would fit you perfectly! What do you think?”

M’gann smiled, mostly genuine but a little overwhelmed. “I think it’s beautiful. I’d love to learn how to make clothes someday, too.”

“Oh, I would love to teach you!” She beamed, glanced back at Conner with what could only be approval, and ushered M’gann forward into the sewing room. “Come on, back here, let’s see if it fits you! Do you change your dimensions when you change your form? We can adjust it if you do.”

M’gann sent Conner a desperate look and mouthed ‘say something’; he just grinned wider and shook his head. There was no stopping Ma. That was one of the first things Clark had taught him and so far that was holding true.

M’gann made a face and was herded into the room; Clark put a hand on Conner’s shoulder, and it was embarrassing how much he relaxed under it. He hadn’t realized he was that tense. “She’s fine,” Clark whispered. “I told you. Breathe.”

Honestly, it was one thing to hear it, and another thing to get it through his head. This was the big test, after all. He didn’t need to have a lot of social experience to know acceptance was crucial to being happy. 

He didn’t care as much, but M’gann really wanted to be accepted. And he wanted, above all else, for her to be happy. It was good news that, even if it was a little overwhelming, she was.

“Breathing,” Conner replied in a whisper. Clark moved away to help Pa with something in the kitchen. Probably cooking. They seemed to assume M’gann didn’t eat at the cave.

The door re-opened; Conner expected M’gann to be wearing the sweater, but instead she was carrying it in her hands. _Help me,_ she thought, and this time there was more of an edge to it and the smile she gave him.

Ma emerged behind her. “The room is right up the stairs—"

“I’ll show her,” Conner volunteered. 

“Mind your manners,” Pa called, mostly playfully but not entirely, and Conner felt his ears turning red; Clark laughed from the kitchen. 

_Little late,_ M’gann thought with a hint of satisfaction, but out loud she murmured, “Thanks.”

Going on a hunch, Conner followed her into his room and shut the door; as soon as it was closed, she breathed out deeply and all but collapsed onto the bed. _They’re nice,_ she thought, _but it’s a little… it’s a lot._

_They were the same when I first came. You get used to it eventually._

She breathed out a laugh and laid back on the bed, red hair fanning around her face starkly against his plain white sheets. “You said they were friendly. You didn’t mention they would be so eager to give me everything in the house.”

“You saw how much stuff I came back with the first few times Clark brought me here.” They had sent him back with _couches_ when he mentioned he didn’t have anything in his room except a bed. Clark had gotten an earful for that, like it was his fault. There was a proper way for kids to be kids, in their point of view, and if they didn’t want to go the proper way it was fine but they had to have all the tools.

M’gann laughed and tucked her hair behind her ears, sitting up. “They’re really sweet,” she said quietly. “Really sweet. I like them.”

“Good. I mean… I’m glad, you like them.” Conner shifted back. “They like you. Especially Ma. You have to be careful, though, because she doesn’t know when to stop feeding you.”

That lightened something, somehow. M’gann laughed and, in a few quick steps, was folded into his arms. She was short enough her head fit squarely under his chin, and her breath tingled where it brushed against his neck in a laugh. 

“I told you you had nothing to worry about,” he said, and maybe it came out a little smug, but he didn’t get to say it very often.

M’gann shrugged, looking embarrassed. “It wasn’t a given, you know. Especially since I’m not family.”

“Well, not yet, at least.”

…Why did he say that.

M’gann stiffened abruptly; Conner shut his eyes and prayed for a lightning strike. Tornado. Evil alien attack. He’d take anything. Anything to make M’gann forget he’d said something like that, so stupidly…

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I wasn’t-“

“No, no no, Conner, it’s…” She swallowed. He felt it. “It’s fine.” She nuzzled a little further into his neck, sighing, but it felt like contentment from her instead of a bad omen. “It’s fine. It’s sweet.” 

He huffed, feeling the heat spread up to his ears. He was sure M’gann could feel it. “I-I just meant… You know, you’re welcome here. Not—" 

_Not that I want to marry you._ But that felt mean and not entirely true, so he cut himself off. If he thought about it, it was actually… the opposite.

They were young, yes— but he already knew, deep in his bones, that it was M’gann. M’gann or nobody at all. There wasn’t going to be anyone else who understood him so well, who could match his mood swings so easily, who made him feel… so important. Important but normal. She loved him, but not because he was Superboy, not because he was Conner, but because he was him. 

They were young, but when had that ever stopped them?

_Ask me,_ he thought. _Ask me if I mean it. I didn’t plan any of this out but we can try, can’t we?_

But M’gann just laughed, and said again in a tight voice that it was fine and it was sweet but he could tell it made her kind of uncomfortable to think on for too long, and he knew: they were too young. This was too new, too sudden. He didn’t even have a ring. He was moving too recklessly again, as usual. 

If M’gann wanted him to be patient, he would try. For her.

II.

M’gann was exhausted. 

Coming home was an amazing blessing. Today had been one of those days, one of the ones where there were no missions but real life was demanding enough to feel like one, and it was all she could do to drag herself through the zeta tube and smile at the people who said hi when she passed. She nearly forgot to shapeshift back into her green skin, which hadn’t happened for quite a while. 

There was only one cure for days like this, only one thing that rejuvenated her without fail, and she was headed for him right now.

Conner was asleep on the couch in the living room. She was the only one who could really sneak up on him anymore, with his hearing fine-tuned enough to catch any footsteps in the whole building, but Wolf lifted his head from the floor to look at her. M’gann put a finger to her lips and gestured with her hand for him to leave, and he stood without a sound and padded away toward the rooms. There was some sound coming from that direction, probably Artemis and Wally, but it didn’t reach out here. 

She carefully floated up over the couch, and settled down straddling Conner’s chest, and kissed him deeply when he started to wake up. It took a second, but his hands lifted to her waist, gentle and careful, and when she pulled back his eyes were open.

“Good afternoon to you, too,” Conner chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear with a gentle touch, and the light in his eyes was soft and warm like looking at the sun.

M’gann kissed him again, light and fast this time, and sighed; being with him, it felt like coming home. It felt like nothing in the entire universe could hurt her, as if this was the place and moment in time she had spent her whole life looking for.

She grew her hair a little longer, long enough for him to run his fingers through (she knew he loved it, and she loved the feel of it), and when he reached up eagerly she pressed a kiss to his palm. _I missed you,_ she thought. It didn’t need to be said, but she always wanted to make sure he knew.

Conner, though, asked, “What’s wrong?”

M’gann had a long time ago stopped asking him how he knew when she needed to talk; she just sighed and frowned and let him twine her hair behind her ears. It felt good, actually, for him to acknowledge that she wasn’t okay. There was no obligation to hold up an act when Conner could see through everything. 

“I… don’t know how to describe it,” she admitted. “But I feel… off, somehow.”

Conner’s brow furrowed. 

“I mean, just… I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Show me.”

It warmed her heart, that he trusted her enough to just ask that, and she opened her mind to him; the feeling that escaped definition was there, and she let him see it. At school, when everyone laughed and pushed each other and she didn’t feel left out, exactly, but was aware of her otherness and couldn’t join in. In class, when they talked about experiences she knew about but hadn’t lived. The girlfriends and boyfriends who did things naturally and she knew the movements, she did them with Conner, but they were things she did as M’gann, not Megan, and there was a difference.

_Do you get what I mean?_

Conner’s lashes fluttered, feeling it and separating it from his own thoughts with practiced ease, and then he murmured, “You know I do.”

She did. That was why she shared it with him, and no one else: they were so similar sometimes, even without linking minds, that she didn’t feel like she was learning things about him, only discovering them.

She sighed. It was a constant feeling, an irritating itch that she could never quite reach in the back of her mind- _you’re not real._ But she was feeling it stronger than usual right now. 

“I… don’t think I want to go out for cheerleading this year.”

She felt Conner shift, and sat up to look at him. His expression was quizzical— and a little amused. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

“M’gann. You’ve been falling asleep going over the routines in your head for weeks.”

Oh. She didn’t always realize when she was linked with him anymore, apparently. She would have to be more careful in the future, or God knew what she would accidentally tell him. Her cheeks flushed. “I’m serious. I… don’t think I should.” 

She was skirting around it, it never sat well with her to admit out loud, but Conner knew. His expression darkened. “This is about Megan,” he said.

She nodded. It was difficult to describe, the rift between what she was and what she wanted to be, but…

_Everything good about me is stolen from someone else,_ she thought. 

Conner sat up fully, his blue eyes focused with concentration. She loved when they were like that. She dreamed of that blue in every single one of her dreams from the first day she met him.

“You know, when I say that, you get mad at me,” he said. 

“That’s different.”

“You’re right. It is. ‘Megan’ doesn’t even exist- you do.” He leaned forward without breaking eye contact and took her hands in his, a bit of a smile growing on his face. “And you should do whatever you want to do, and it will be right because it’ll be yours.” 

The words sent a spark through her, jolted out the last bit of fog— why did she have that doubt in the first place? That was what Conner did, she realized with a burst of clarity: he made things brighter. Set a light on her shadows. Made sharper her edges. Made her feel like the entire universe was expanding inside her and she was capable of anything and everything within it. 

M’gann leaned forward and kissed him hard— she felt him laughing a little against her lips, and when he pulled back he was blushing faintly. It was a good look for him. “Did I say the right thing this time?” He asked, sounding shy. 

Just for that look, she kissed his cheek again. “Perfect thing as always,” she replied. “It’s like you read my mind.”

Conner groaned at her bad joke, and M’gann hoisted herself up onto her knees so that she could kiss him deeply, properly, in every way he deserved and so that he understood every bit of the love she felt. She didn’t mean for it to slow, but it just did. That was another thing Conner did to her. Took normal things and made them special and meaningful. Made it so that when she breathed, she felt it.

His eyes opened, all soft sparks. “You say that all the time,” he said lowly, but in a voice that said he didn’t really mind it. 

M’gann weaved her fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck, feeling the goosebumps there, and then pressed her forehead against his and sent him a picture: a picture of the sun, of his bright blue eyes, of that buoyant feeling she got when he was smiling at her, of lying in the dark with him and feeling afraid of nothing at all. It was everything. He was everything.

She thought, _I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you._

When she pulled back, Conner was staring into her eyes already. Waiting.

There was no brace for impact when he felt that thought from her. The world didn’t stop turning and then restart. It occurred to her she hadn’t said anything new or groundbreaking— just phrased it in a new way that felt more permanent. Not quite, they were still too young for that, but Conner’s mind had only an edge of excitement to it. It was mostly hope. 

He had no intentions of doing anything different, she realized. He intended to spend the rest of his life with her, too— he was just waiting, for now, same as her. 

_Ask me,_ she thought, fast, quiet, _ask me if I mean what you think I mean. Ask me if I want to try it, in spite of everything, because we’re good at doing what people say we can’t. Ask me. I want to marry you._

He didn’t. It wasn’t the right time, they were too young, and the moment just stretched out between them, infinite and perfect but not final.

III.

The cave was getting crowded these days.

Conner dearly missed when there were only eight of them on the team. Sure, some of the new additions were fine, he had to grudgingly admit. It was nice to have Mal and Karen in on the secret so that was one less lie he had to keep up. Batgirl wasn’t half bad, since she kept Nightwing out of trouble. Gar was okay, since M’gann loved having him around and he was growing on the idea of having a little brother.

But it was so _loud._ It was very rarely just him and M’gann, anymore, and there were times that was annoying as hell.

Like now. There were about nine people in the cave right now, most of them in the kitchen with M’gann as she attempted to make dinner while weaving around everyone keeping her company. She was too nice to say anything to them, and so far Conner was holding his tongue and not telling them to move either. M’gann seemed to be navigating well enough so far. 

She moved from one end of the kitchen to the other, comfortable after three and a half years to the point that she knew where everything was and when she would need it, floating bowls and ingredients around but mixing them all together by hand. She had gotten much better since she covered him with milk and tomatoes and flour. She was responding to Karen’s questions about school and where they were going to college (they weren’t sure if they were yet) and stirring and setting the oven with her hip and ushering Gar not to sit on it all at the same time. And the whole time she was grinning, barely humming under her breath to keep a good pace up, perfectly at ease with what she was doing.

He must have looked irritated by all of the conversations, because out of the corner of her eye she paused, smiled at him, and thought _I’m fine._

_I was actually just marveling at that._

She kept moving, her short dress and apron swaying with her graceful movements. She was so gorgeous when she was happy. _Is that why you’re staring?_

_Among other reasons._

Her smile grew. _We can get out of here after this. I know you’re feeling crowded._

He was, a little, his tolerance for socialization was a lot lower than most people, but… _I’m fine if you’re happy._

_Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll come back when you’re out with Wolf._

This was why he loved her— she knew him. She had taken the time to get to know him in a way very few people could manage, because she was amazingly patient and understanding and had so much love inside of her. He didn’t need to say when something annoyed him anymore— she just knew before he opened his mouth. And she understood why. She didn’t resent him because he was different and a tiny bit difficult. She just accepted it. This was just one of the ways that it showed. There were hundreds.

It dawned on him, suddenly but clearly enough he couldn’t believe he had never put words to it before: he and M’gann… felt _married._

He should ask her to marry him.

The bowl clattered out of M’gann’s hands and onto the floor.

…Oh. Shit. They were still in the link.

The kitchen exploded into laughter— at least, a little bit, what he could hear outside of the embarrassment that felt physical working its way all up his face and ringing in his ears. They had an audience. Fucking _fantastic._

_Sinkhole,_ he willed, praying M’gann didn’t overhear that, too. _I would like to disappear now._

M’gann’s mouth was still gaping wide, like a fish, like her vocal cords were frozen, and the mental link was blocked. Maybe by her. Maybe by him. Either way, he was glad she couldn’t hear his panic and how colorful it was growing. 

But damn it, he wanted her to say something, and he wanted Gar to _shut up._

She pointed at him, swallowed, and said, with deliberate slowness, “We need to talk.” 

Artemis laughed. “Wow. Someone’s in trouble.”

Conner rounded on her indignantly, but M’gann must have phased through the counters or something because she was there to catch him by the arm and tow him backwards already. After a quick-second stumble he turned and let her lead him. She was silent again, and walking fast, which meant she was rattled enough she didn’t even trust herself to levitate.

“No making out in the bathroom, please!” Dick called, and Gar made exaggerated gagging sounds. 

“Shut up!” He yelled back, and M’gann’s grip tightened around his hand. She was still silent. She was still absent from his head. 

Conner was beginning to suspect this was what Wally referred to as an I-fucked-up moment. He would never mock him for being scared of them again.

Finally, they were in the bathroom, and M’gann let go of his hand, and Conner just started apologizing right away, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—"

She cut him off with a laugh and a deep, sweet, I-love-you kiss that Conner was too confused to really participate in. He stared at her when she pulled back, trying to figure out where the one-eighty had happened, and how he had missed it, but M’gann’s smile seemed… genuine. 

“Conner,” she said, in that ‘I’m trying not to laugh at you but you’re making it really difficult’ voice she got a lot when he was being stupid. “I’m not mad.”

He frowned. “When you’re not mad, you don’t clam up like that.”

M’gann shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear as best as she could. There was a tinge of red to her cheeks, contrasting starkly with the green, and she looked a little bashful. “I… overreacted. Sorry. But I’m not mad. Promise.”

Conner breathed out deeply and wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her close; they bumped into the counter and M’gann knocked one of the towels on the floor, but Conner ignored them in favor of putting his head on hers. “Don’t do that to me. I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“What?” M’gann laughed into his chest. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I did something stupid.”

“You said something sweet,” M’gann corrected, then fell silent, drawing patterns into the back of his shirt. Conner was dimly aware, in the back of his senses, of all the things in the undercurrent: everyone still chuckling in the front room over their exit, the comforting hum of the cave’s electronics, M’gann’s steady, familiar heartbeat in front of his. It was nearly in synch with his. He had looked it up and that often happened to people who spent a lot of time with each other. 

To married couples. 

He steeled himself. 

_Ask me,_ he thought, _ask me if I meant it. I know what I want to say this time._

But she didn’t. Just kissed him, and he decided it could wait because nothing was going to drive them apart now that nearly four years hadn’t already.

Soon.

IV.

The place that had been chosen for the team’s new base of operations— their replacement ‘cave’, maybe, but that definition made her chest feel tight— was exceptionally difficult to work in.

“We couldn’t have picked somewhere that rained less?” Artemis grumbled next to her, arms bundled to her torso and nearly lost in the folds of her coat. “I miss the sun. I haven’t seen it in weeks.”

M’gann shrugged and telekinetically floated another board up to where construction was being done on the new place’s roof. It was in a cave on the edge of an ocean harbor, just like Mount Justice, but was mostly hidden in a thick forest, with just a small clearing in front of it. Artemis was just grumbling, so she didn’t bother to reply. They both knew why. There was no town to put in danger in this location. It was close to five zeta tubes from which backup could arrive quickly. It was far from any other Justice League haunts so there was nowhere for enemies in the know to look for them. 

But yes, the fact they were working in mud was beginning to wear on everyone’s nerves. 

Conner, up on the roof, swung his head over to glare at Artemis. He was underneath an awning being held up by Cassie, but his bangs were still damp and stuck to his forehead because the water was relentless. (It was unfair how her ex never looked bad. Absolutely the worst kind of torture karma could inflict on her.) “Maybe if you went inside and helped Kaldur you’d be warm!” He called down.

“You weren’t meant to hear that, eavesdropper!” She yelled back. 

Conner took the piece of wood out of the air and passed it to Mal to nail into place. “Freeloader,” he said just loudly enough for them to hear. 

“Showoff,” Artemis shot back.

M’gann bit back a smile and forced herself to focus when Conner moved to the edge of the built roof, which meant he was ready to come down and help on the ground. He could have jumped, but it was easier for M’gann to help him so he didn’t get muddy, and it was a simple act but she desperately hoped it meant something more. 

Before, for months after they broke up, he had avoided speaking to her or looking at her at all costs, in everything except missions. It had hurt like being stabbed every time. She had missed him, the whole time she was with La’gann, with every fiber of her body. You didn’t just turn off five years of loving someone overnight, not even over a mistake as huge as hers— and yet, she had wondered sometimes if Conner had.

Things like this gave her hope that maybe someday, even if they never fully recovered, he would forgive her. That was what she wanted.

She gently lifted him into the air and started to lower him to the ground. “You guys fight like cats and dogs.”

Artemis scoffed. “You’re one to—"

Something that sounded like a bomb went off behind them. 

M’gann snapped her concentration off and spun around in a second, ready for battle— but it was only Gar, laughing with one of Tim’s smoke grenades in his hand. She huffed. “Gar—" 

Behind her, Conner let out a startled yelp and fell heavily into the mud puddle she had been helping him to avoid.

She had forgotten to keep lowering him gently.

M’gann cringed as Bart laughed loudly. God, that wasn’t what her relationship with Conner needed, some high school antics. “Gar!” She snapped, but her little brother looked less than apologetic, and she swung back around to look at Conner. “Sorry! I lost focus, I didn’t mean to do that!”

Conner scowled at her, halfway sitting up. The mud and water were about a foot deep, so he was completely covered, from head to toe. “Sure you didn’t.” He shifted his weight in the mud. She had a sudden flashback to simpler times, when they were young and in infatuation instead of love: Conner with the exact same look, dripping with eggs and milk, looking at her like she was missing something by not being next to him. 

And she wanted to be next to him. Because he didn’t look like he hated her, for the first time in a long time, but was just disgruntled. He didn’t look like he’d lost a friend. 

“Really,” she said, floating down to help him up and extending a hand. “Sorry. Let’s get you cleaned—"

Conner grabbed her hand and yanked her down into the mud face-first. 

M’gann’s instinctive reaction was to gasp, which was a mistake. She swallowed a huge mouthful— not a fun experience, it had been years since she was that badly caught off-guard— and when she surfaced Conner was laughing.

It had been months since she heard him laugh. And it made her feel buoyant. 

She spat out mud. “Conner Joseph Kent!”

He started running toward the base, and it was like lightning in her veins again, like a path of light laid out: she had to follow.

M’gann picked up some of the mud from just outside, pressed it into a ball and shot it inside at Conner; he skidded behind a couch to the side and avoided it, and the mud hit Zatanna square in the face. 

She let out an indignant squeak, but then a smile broke out across her face, and she raised her hands in the air: “Niar dum!” 

“Mud fight!” Someone yelled. Probably Gar. Pretty much definitely Gar. Instigator.

Things spiraled downhill very quickly from there, into all-out chaos. M’gann hadn’t known a lot of them had it in them to play war so quickly after a real war had ended, but there was something in the air. A release of tension like there hadn’t been since Wally disappeared and they held his funeral. A sense of safety for the first time since the Justice League came back and they didn’t have to protect the entire world and live normal lives at the same time. A sense of hope that maybe this could be an actual place they could call home.

Somehow, inevitably, five minutes after she set off to attack Conner with mud, they ended up on the same side— there had, of course, ended up being sides in the short battle. It had devolved into a mud/water/food/construction supplies fight, slightly dangerous. Tim was air support for Cassie, who was using two-by-fours as shields, while Artemis shot ink arrows and Mal and Karen tag-teamed from a stockpile of slightly-wet cement. Gar was gleefully turning into animals with long tails and throwing huge waves of mud, which Kaldur would direct with scary accuracy, and Dick and Zatanna were coming up with weirder and weirder spells to try. Bart was just having fun dodging everything and switching sides.

She and Conner were on Kaldur’s side, but there was a perfect opportunity for a betrayal and now they had no allies at all and had to run for cover. They ended up in a heap behind the couch, Conner lying on his back and M’gann crouched over his head and chest, breathing hard and laughing. They were so close that each time he breathed it moved her arms, and when she laughed he jumped a little in surprise, so he felt it too.

She would get up if he wanted her to, but he seemed not to care, so M’gann pushed her luck and stayed where she was. She had spent so long away from him that every second with him was precious. And this, right now, with no space between them, like they had never fallen apart in the first place, felt sacred.

“Leave it to Gar to get Kaldur on his side in a water fight,” Conner grumbled.

“You were the one who nailed him with the pie.”

Conner made a face at her. “You always take his side,” he said, disgruntled but only lightly so. There were patchwork splashes of mud plastered to his forehead and hair and cheeks and neck, and it made him look young and boyish and—

And she wanted to kiss him. So, so badly. But she was afraid of ruining this, whatever it was and wasn’t, so she just laughed and moved some of it out of his hair. “Officially, you started it.”

He snorted. “You dropped me.”

“On accident.”

“Partially on accident,” he said, still grinning like they were sixteen again. “I know your control.”

“It was Gar’s fault!” She laughed in spite of herself. “See, I’m not always on his side.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you threw him under the bus,” Conner said. He cocked his head slightly in that way that meant he was listening. Not that there was much that M’gann couldn’t hear for herself. The whole building echoed with laughter, water splashing, mud hitting the walls, furniture being broken… This was going to set them back on construction for weeks, but it was worth it. For the first time, it felt like the kind of place she could call home. 

And, like before, like it had been from the second she joined the team, it was Conner that made it that kind of place.

It was always him.

_I love him,_ she realized with the finality of someone dying, in a part of her she could never undo, _I always have and I always will. It’s him._

Conner shifted, halfway rolling over in an attempt to see behind the couch or through it. “I think it’s safe—"

“Marry me.”

Conner jolted and whipped his face forward so fast their noses nearly collided; she hadn’t noticed how close they were, exactly, until that moment, but even if the right thing to do was draw back she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Everything felt so pivotal and it made every breath the most important she had ever taken.

He wasn’t laughing anymore.

“T-that was stupid,” M’gann breathed. _Move,_ she tried to tell her limbs, she tried to back away from him so that she didn’t feel his every exhale like a forgotten kiss, but everything was locked up and frozen. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I’m just— I’m sorry.”

Conner swallowed heavily, and wet his lips, and said, “I missed you.”

M’gann laughed— tried to, at least, but it came out in a choked cough— and put her forehead to his. Just breathed him in, felt his heart beating under her palm like when she fell asleep to it, smelled the dirt and salt from the sea in his hair, and focused on his mind sharp but not edged with hurt like it had been for months. 

Letting her in. He was letting her in. She was probably crying but she didn’t care.

_Ask me,_ M’gann thought, feeling lighter than she had in months, feeling like everything was right for the first time in years, feeling desperate for a handhold before this slipped out of her grasp like everything else, _ask me if I meant it. Ask me if I’m sorry. Ask me if I would do anything to go back to what we had before I screwed it up, ask me what I would do to make it up to you, ask me if I never stopped loving you for even a second, ask me if I still want to spend the rest of my life at your side. Ask me. I’ll never lie to you again. I’ll tell you everything. Ask me. Please._

But he didn’t. It was too soon, she realized with a sinking heart— but the light didn’t die out of his eyes this time. He didn’t pull away from her or force her out. She didn’t feel any doors shutting, nothing breaking, for the first time in a long time. 

It wasn’t a no— just a not yet.

V.

Conner sat in the chair outside the emergency ward of the Watchtower, head in his hands, and tried not to scream.

M’gann was in there— just beyond the glass, just out of his reach— fighting to stay alive. Something had gone wrong, on their last mission, he couldn’t even recall exactly what. Everything blurred together. It was like his mind had blacked out everything except M’gann’s blood, too much of it, vivid red against grey rock—

_Don’t remember,_ he told himself in reflex, _don’t think about it. Any of it._

Easier said than done. There was no topic his mind could settle on that didn’t make him feel like he was going to either punch something to pieces or hyperventilate.

Things were said. Things that scared the living hell out of him now that M’gann was breathing and going to recover. He hadn’t felt so much like turning and running from her for a long, long time, and it was cowardly, and that had him pacing in circles outside her door and rocking back and forth in the chair like a crazy man.

She made him crazy. She always had. He just… hadn’t quite considered, when they started dating again, that he would have to get used to this brand of crazy all over again. 

The door opened and shut. It wasn’t the right door, so he didn’t pay it any attention, even when the person sat down next to him. He wasn’t apologizing. He wasn’t moving. Not until M’gann was awake. 

Until, not if. He had to keep repeating that or he was going to crack.

“Hey.” Artemis put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, and he leaned into her without thinking. She wasn’t M’gann, but when she wasn’t here Artemis was the next best thing. Artemis understood all of his ugly thoughts and what it was like to love someone with the intensity of a bomb going off. “Hey. She’s tough. You know that.”

“That’s… not entirely what I’m worried about.” Conner managed.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I…” His throat closed up on the words. “I… said things.”

Artemis knew him well enough not to be alarmed when he had problems putting things into words. Her hand didn’t move, and her voice was steady when she asked, “Like what? Bad things?”

“No. Just… I don’t know.” He buried his face deeper in his hands. The emotions were confusing and he wanted to punch something but, somehow, he was afraid to move. Like that would change something, and he couldn’t risk it. A stupid thought, but he had heard people clung to stupid thoughts when they were freaked out and he was definitely there. “Embarrassing things.” He paused. “I shouldn’t be worried about this.”

“You feel how you feel, remember?” Artemis said, quoting Dinah. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Tell me.”

“I…” He was too mortified to say it out loud. He hadn’t even been able to say it out loud at first— or at least, he didn’t think so. Everything was kind of a blur. Maybe he had thought it, maybe he had whispered it, maybe he had yelled it and nobody had heard or cared. 

_Don’t leave me. Come on, M’gann, don’t leave me. We… we have things we need to do, remember?_

She had been fading. The panic had been so acute, so jagged, so immediate and suffocating he had just kept going because she was keeping her eyes open to watch him when he did. He could hear her heart slowing, beat by beat, and it was like falling off a cliff.

_You said you wanted to go back to Qurac, remember? Go be touristy with Gar. And you need to drag me around the Mall of America after we graduate. And we need to go to Paris and see the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower, and go back to Mars and see your parents, and go on a road trip across the US with the team— except La’gann, please—_

She tried to laugh, but choked on it. The look on her face wasn’t exhaustion anymore, but dawning panic, like she only realized when blood bubbled out of her lips how bad the injuries were. How close she was to… to…

_I’m losing her,_ he thought, and it was a wonder he didn’t just break down and start screaming. It wasn’t willpower, he had none left, it was just _I need to anchor her._

_And… and you need to stay with me. I need to marry you. I need to marry you and stay with you for the rest of my life. Maybe have kids. Maybe just live together. Maybe just be together… just… we’ll figure it out, just please… please… don’t leave me, M’gann, don’t leave me…_

And now she was in the hospital and he wanted to tell her everything but he had already said far too much.

“You can talk with her about it,” Artemis said quietly. “Because she’s going to wake up. Just wait.”

She sat with him outside and waited, glaring at the people who joined them so they wouldn’t comment because that was how she liked to help, for what felt like hours. Either everything was silent or he tuned all the sounds out. He may have fallen asleep at one point. Artemis never left his side. 

They were in the same spot when the door opened and someone announced she was stable and they could see her; Conner was the first one through. 

He forced himself to slow, but really it was M’gann turning to face him and giving a tired smile that did it. They had cleaned the blood from her face, and she was in a clean white hospital gown instead of her bio clothes, and her skin was paler than it should have been but otherwise she didn’t seem to be in pain.

Now he could banish the last image he had of her, bleeding to death quietly and slowly while he couldn’t do anything. He was so relieved all he could do was laugh. 

M’gann blinked and held out a hand toward him, trying to do the same before she breathed in deeply. “I… didn’t know I looked that bad.” 

He took it, as gently as he could. “You know what I mean.”

M’gann smiled. “I’m okay,” she said, voice strained through the tube fed through her nose. “I promise. I’m okay.” 

Hearing her say that released the last bit of tension in his body; he allowed himself to breathe, finally, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Never do that again,” he said. “I think I actually had a heart attack.” 

He was trying for a light tone, but it fell short; it always did. M’gann stroked his hair and repeated herself, again and again, until it started to feel real.

Conner was dimly aware of the room emptying. He was making a spectacle, then. He couldn’t have cared less. M’gann was alive and that was what mattered. 

That, and… He took a deep breath. “What I said. Do you remember?”

M’gann’s brow knit together, and her gaze dropped down to her hand. “Yeah, I remember.” She swallowed. “Don’t apologize for it. Please. It… kept me going.”

“Still. I… probably shouldn’t have…”

“Conner.” She placed her hand on his— it was so familiar, every line of it— and he could tell there was more she wanted to say, more they needed to talk about, but she didn’t say it. It was a block between them, large, insurmountable. 

He didn’t know where to go with it.

_Ask me,_ he thought, _ask me if I meant it. I did. I want to marry you._

M’gann was silent, though. Hesitant. Almost… afraid.

“We can talk about it later,” he said, deciding for her. “You just rest.”

M’gann nodded sleepily, but just as her head started to tilt, her eyes opened back up and fixed on him fully. “You’re not going anywhere?”

“Absolutely not.” Not unless they physically pried him off. He wasn’t that okay yet. 

She smiled, like she knew the part he was leaving unsaid, and drifted off into sleep still holding his hand. Her heart monitor, steady once more, beeped comfortingly in the pattern he would know in death. _Alive. Alive. Alive._

_Soon,_ he thought to placate himself. _The proper way. Soon._

_I won’t wait too long this time._

I.

The roof of the new cave was quiet. 

M’gann sat on the edge and drank in the peace. On calm days like this, back at Mount Justice, she could hear Happy Harbor. She could hear the cars and the people and the fire department and the planes. Here, though, with the nearest town miles and miles away, there were only the waves and the wind moving through the leaves of the trees as they started to fall to the ground. It was autumn, just turning winter, and the forest around them looked like it was on fire the leaves were so vibrant.

It wasn’t home, but it was getting there. She was hopeful for that day to come. 

Something brushed against her mind and her senses at the same time— someone else walking up to join her. She knew it was Conner. She would know him anywhere, anytime, any circumstances. 

Her Conner. She was never going to take saying that for granted again, for as long as she lived.

M’gann stood up and walked back to meet him halfway to the edge; he looked at her a bit sideways, not wary but concerned, but still kissed her forehead in that soft way that made her heart stop and restart. “Something on your mind?”

“Just enjoying the view now that the base is finished. I’d tell you if something was bothering me.”

“Doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

They stood in silence and looked out over the water, the sun setting and making the distant sea match the flames of the forest— the whole world was soft orange and yellow and red, and it was so beautiful and reminded her of Mars in the best way possible. The sea air lifted her hair and cloak, and she took refuge in Conner’s arms leaning against his front; he folded her in easily and put his head on top of hers. It wasn’t like it was cold— she just wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to be near him and make up for lost time.

“I love you,” she said, just because it felt right. “You know that, right?”

Conner pursed his lips. “Yeah. I know.” His grip tightened on her shoulders, like he was reassuring himself that she was really there, and then relaxed. “I love you, too.”

She knew that, too. Deeper than that, though, she knew something else, more important: that he always had, and always would. He knew everything about her— for better or worse. Her insecurities. Her demons. Her fears. Her failures. The ugly side everyone else didn’t see because they were afraid to look for it— he didn’t look for it, but it was a natural part of growing close, and he hadn’t run from it. He hadn’t rejected it. He didn’t pretend it didn’t exist. He helped her work through it and called her on it and decided that it wasn’t enough to cancel out everything good about her. 

He saw so much good in her. He made her good.

“I love you,” she repeated. “And I’m not going to stop.”

“…What are you saying, M’gann?”

She didn’t know. She knew what she wanted to say, but it was like there was a block in front of the actual words. They felt so momentous. So ground-breaking. She and Conner had spent the better part of six years together, but the last year had made all the difference. She had been forgiven, she had been let back in, she had been talking with Conner and Dinah and Kaldur and Artemis to come to terms with the bad things she had done— and yet there were times it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t feel like it would ever be enough. 

She wasn’t sure she deserved to be with Conner, after everything she had done.

His arms tightened around her shoulders, and he pressed a kiss to the base of her neck and shoulder— a soft one, but one that sent sparks down her spine nonetheless. That was the other thing about the year’s break. Everything was vibrant and new again. She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on the new boy all over again, in the best way. 

“I told you I forgive you,” he murmured. “And no, we’re not linked. But when you get quiet, that’s what you’re thinking of.”

M’gann smiled in spite of the fact she felt like doing the opposite. “You know me too well.” The words were right there, damn it, she couldn’t manage to say them, she just couldn’t… “Do you know what else I’m thinking of?”

He paused. That was a low blow. He was never going to guess. She had to say it.

“I love you,” she repeated, say it say it say it, “And… I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

They were pressed so close together she felt when every nerve in his body simultaneously _stopped._

“…Conner?”

He swallowed heavily. Took a deep, bracing breath. “What are you saying, M’gann?”

He wanted her to say it. What they had been dancing around for years without ever committing to.

She knew how to make sure that this time was different.

“Hold on.” She said, praying he wouldn’t take her retreat the wrong way, and went down into the base. To his room.

It was easy enough to find what she was looking for— Conner had a lot of good strong points, but being sneaky wasn’t one of them. She had found it a few weeks ago, when she was folding and putting away his clean clothes. It had taken a full hour longer than it should have because the second she caught sight of it her legs went weak and it took all her strength to just stand there and stare at it and think about what it meant. What it was. She hadn’t opened it up but they were already past her birthday and Christmas so there was only one thing it could have been.

She hadn’t said anything, though. If he wasn’t ready, she wasn’t going to push him. They had been dating for only a few months, even if their time apart had been mostly mended, and she was still so, so scared of doing something wrong. She had said nothing and shoved it to the back of her mind. 

But now, she wanted him to know what she wanted, at least. He could make up his mind from there.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she tucked it in her pocket and ran back up to the roof.

Conner hadn’t moved, but apparently she wasn’t as composed as she thought she was because he looked concerned and turned to face her fully. “M’gann? Are you—?”

M’gann brought out the little box from her pocket; Conner’s eyes widened, caught off guard, and M’gann almost played it off and ignored it— but no. She wanted this, and if he had the ring he did too, and she was terrified of waiting too long like Artemis and Wally had. 

She held it out to him, noticing her fingers were shaking, but she didn’t feel it. Didn’t feel anything with Conner’s attention so intense upon her face. She smiled in what she hoped was reassurance. “You were taking too long.”

Conner laughed hoarsely and took the box from her. “I was waiting,” he said, but it sounded like there was something stuck in his throat. “Clark said you had to do something special when you proposed. I… couldn’t think of anything.”

Because he wanted her to have the perfect proposal. M’gann felt herself going red, and shrugged, looking out over the ocean in front of them. “I don’t need anything special,” she assured him— and it was true. Sure she had seen all the elaborate proposals— scavenger hunts that ended with the ring, proposals in public, a special day— but she didn’t want any of them, and it was the complete, absolute truth. Those fit because of the circumstances. 

Her and Conner’s circumstances had always been anything but normal— just fitting. This was too. To ask her at sunset, looking out over the unending ocean with the moon high above their heads, the wind weaving a comfortable silence between them, like they were the only two people left in the world…

She felt tears coming to her eyes and wiped them away, turning back to Conner. He held the box in his hand like it was going to break apart, the opening facing toward her, his gaze soft and satisfied and focused on her when he thought she wasn’t looking at him. 

She wanted to wake up, come home, live the rest of her life, die old and content, with Conner at her side looking at her like that.

_Yes,_ M’gann thought. _Yes. Ask me. Please._

And Conner took a deep breath and dropped to one knee.


End file.
